


Zubenes

by Jenifereads



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: And lgbtq, Angst, Bakery and Coffee Shop, Depressed Draco Malfoy, Draco needs a hug, Enemies to Friends, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Hugs, Hurt/Comfort, Hurts So Good, I wrote this instead of attending my lectures, M/M, Not Beta Read, Pets, Poetic, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sarcasm, Self-Harm, Smut, Stories To Save Lives, Unrequited Love, everyone is stupid, give it a try pls thanks, racoons
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:54:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27856281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jenifereads/pseuds/Jenifereads
Summary: Draco Malfoy was drowning in his sorrows and handled a cafe side by side. Then one day, Harry walked into a street sign, and Draco’s life was never the same
Relationships: Draco Malfoy/Harry Potter, Harry Potter/Ginny Weasley, Hermione Granger/Ron Weasley
Comments: 6
Kudos: 32





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, I suck at summaries. Just give this story a try, thank you :)

2004  
If anyone was asked who Draco Malfoy was, their eyes would spark with hatred and reply that he was a Death Eater. Those two words was all how Draco was described by everyone who would even consider wasting their breath by talking about him. However, Draco Malfoy was more than just a death eater. He is more than anyone would bother knowing. For the world, his past defined who he was. No matter how many times Draco lay in his bathtub – his eyes closed, hoping that when he opened them, he would be someone – anyone else, he still was a death eater.  
So 6 years after the war, Draco had got used to it. He was accustomed to how people would stare at him, call him names and some bold enough to even spit on him. But that did not mean he wanted it. So he moved, away from all his acquaintances, his childhood and home. He now worked at a coffee shop in a Muggle town named Waldsper. One would never imagine Draco working at a café in a Muggle town- and that was Draco’s intention. He wanted to be everything the people expected not to. He liked to console himself and tell him that he did not care what people thought about, but he did. It was quite difficult when everyday someone came up with a new label for him. He was so affected by it that he wished that the blood flowing in his veins did not have magic or even better - did not have a pulse.  
He lived in a very small apartment with no one but his thoughts for a company. All the million galleons in the Malfoy vault of Gringotts had been used up by Lucius who till his death wanted a good public image. He died of old age and his last words to Draco was not to take care of himself but to bring back the Malfoy name. Draco had simply nodded, but he knew he wouldn’t do it. He was too exhausted to wake up in the morning, let alone complete promises. Draco’s routine was very simple – he would wake up at five o’clock and lay in bed wishing he had died in his sleep, but he didn’t have time to fantasize about death - he had other things to do. So he would get up, take a shower and go to his little café - Zubenes. By the time his shift would be over, it would be eight o’clock. He would then go to his favorite place in the world – the hills behind the local school, and feed berries to the raccoons there. He probably was the only one who knew about the family of four raccoons which made it even better. Draco did not exactly know when he stopped socializing with people, but he was glad that he did. Talking to people was a way of self-harm or so Draco had realized.  
Now again people would say that Draco was a monster incapable of humane feelings like love and kindness, but that is false – or at least was false. He had fallen in love, but of course it was unrequited, for who would return love to someone like Draco. In fact the last thing that Draco remembered feeling before total numbness was love for that boy with green eyes and black messy hair. His love came in several ways from obsession to jealousy to fantasy. No matter how hard he tried, it wouldn’t go away, and still when Draco would bury his face in his pillow and cry all his anxiety out, he wished the man-Harry Potter would appear out of nowhere and hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay, even if it was a lie. He wanted to tell Harry about his childhood and why he is what he is. When there was darkness spinning around Draco, he wanted to see Harry and asking him to stop worrying, but not only as a vision. How Draco had fallen for Harry was something he would like to know. But then again, you fall in love with the most unexpected person in the most unexpected ways. But it is no use thinking about all that. Harry Potter was married and was probably having a butterbeer with his wife Ginny somewhere in a house in London and enjoying his life to the fullest while Draco dreaded his existence. The Chosen One’s wedding was grand held by the ministry itself and displayed on the television – a device that the wizards had taken fascination to during efforts for wizard-muggle union in 1998. Draco had watched it too- watched his world fall apart.  
Ginny looked beautiful. Her red hair was tied in a messy bun, she was wearing her aunt’s tiara and her white dress hugged all her curves perfectly. Draco watched as she walked towards the even beautiful man in his tuxedo. Ginny Weasley was finally marrying her childhood crush and they would have kids with green eyes and red hair. It was heart wrenching that Draco was terribly happy that she could make him happy, that she would hold Harry when he was upset or have playful fights and grow old with each other. There must be something special in her that Draco would never have and could never get. However happy he was, his heart shattered as Harry took Ginny’s hands and smiled at them. He looked into her eyes and may have seen his own future passing by in them.  
Ginny was already saying “I do” in that soft, girly voice of hers. There was no chance but still Draco hoped that something would happen and they would never marry and he knew that he was the worst person for wishing that. Ginny and Harry were perfect together. However hard he tried he could not hate Ginny, but still he hoped that she would rather be anywhere in the world than making Harry happy when it should have been him.  
“I do.” Harry said and they kissed passionately as if it was it was the end of the world and the only thing that mattered was each other. It all went pitch black as Draco fell on the floor, his body racking with sobs and there was painful lump in his throat and he prayed to a God that he didn’t even believe in to end it all right there.  
But that was four years ago. And Draco hadn’t felt love since then. He was empty, numb, insensitive as if everything that was happening was not real and his world had ended a long time ago and all he was doing was repeating the same day over and over in loop with nothing to look forward to. If you tried hard enough to not bother at all, it feels like life is dream. Not a good or bad one. Just a dream. A series of thoughts and images, that’ll end and you’ll finally wake up to nothingness.  
-  
Draco dusted the last of crumbs from the table. It was almost 8 pm and the café was empty. He was done for the day. He made his way to the counter and continued his last routine, muscle memory making it faster. First, was all the utensils .Second, pack the leftover berries in his knapsack .And lastly, take out the trash .Taking off his apron, he made his way to the bin and swung the trash bag over his shoulder.  
7:57pm, he checked the clock again before leaving the café and put the bag in the trash can a few feet away from the café. He could easily levitate the bag to the destination. But he preferred not to. Anything – every little thing that reminded him of his magic – he chose not to remember it.  
It wasn’t like he was now ashamed of being a wizard. He was proud actually. If anything, he was ashamed of his origins and their beliefs.  
He turned around, snapping from his thoughts as he heard the café door opening. Frowning, he checked his watch, it was eight o’clock. He did not actually wanted to shoo away a customer who had arrived just for a dose of caffeine but he was sure he would have a seizure if he made another cup. Hoping that the customer was not an old muggle lady who would refuse to leave until she got her coffee, he walked into the store.  
Draco wiped his hands on his apron as he walked into the café and cringing at how dirty they were when the person began, “Hey I know it’s already closing time but I was wondering if you could make me a chilled latte, of course I would pay you more but,” Draco took in a sharp intake of breath.  
Fuck.  
He could remember that voice anywhere, that thick British accent which only belonged to green eyed twat - whom he loved – no, he won’t think about that. He continued to look down at his apron, refusing to lift his head. It couldn’t be him, it couldn’t be Harry dickhead Potter in a fucking muggle café somewe here in England. He took in a few deep breaths. No, no, no this is not happening. He took in a few deep breaths before realizing that the person – Potter – was speaking once again, completely unaware that the barista was Draco Malfoy, cause that would be fucking embarrassing.  
“I understand if you cannot, but you see I have a really long day and I would appreciate if you could-“ he stopped apparently finally finding it weird that the owner of the shop had been standing at a bowed position since the last five minutes, “Excuse me ?”  
Oh god.  
Draco Malfoy right there shortened all his options to two – he could remain in that position until Potter finally decided to leave or he could get some balls and look up. Of course he chose the first one, facing his fears? nope, he was not that stupid. Two minutes passed when Harry broke the silence again, “ Er do you need some help ? Do you have some – I am not being rude – but do you have some back condition. I could help you know. “ and having said that he poked Draco in the should trying to get his attention, Draco’s heart skipped a beat again as electricity shot down his spine. It was crazy how a touch from Potter did that do him and he hated himself for that.  
After the next promises of Harry pleading him to say anything, he realized that he wouldn’t leave until he got his coffee or an answer. He had to look up. Closing his eyes, Draco exhaled deeply and finally looked up into those green eyes that widened on realizing who he was.  
Draco was determinedly not looking at him but the view beyond Potter’s shoulders whereas the twat was not even ashamed as he stared at Draco. Looking at him from up to down, taking in everything. It was safe to say that Draco was very uncomfortable and his heart was beating too loudly for it’s own good.  
“Oh,” Harry finally said just above a whisper.  
And Draco did not know why anger build up in his chest. Anger of being abandoned by Harry when he was not even friends with him in the first place. It was not Potter’s duty to come caress Draco and heal him. Then why did he miss someone’s presence when they weren’t even there in the first place? Why was he standing thinking of how happy it would be if Harry had decided to take his hand 23 years back. He blinked away the tears welling up in his eyes, he would not bloody cry in front of Potter. He had to do something.  
Gathering a year’s worth courage, he cleared his throat,” What coffee did you want again? “ he said as if he did not know who Potter was. It was best if they pretended they did not know each other – he could make the coffee and Potter could take it and go wherever the hell he had to and it would get over.  
“Malfoy.” Potter muttered apparently not taking the hint, “What are you doing here? “  
Draco did not even know why he tried. Potter was not the brightest of all and he needed to know everything.  
“Why can’t I be here Potter? “ he said making his way towards the counter trying his best not to cry or stare at Potter or do anything foolish.  
“Cause it’s muggle. And you’re Draco and you’re not supposed to be here-“  
“Malfoy for you, Potter. I can be anywhere I want to. So you might as well just tell me what do you want. Or not if you think I am going to poison you.”  
“I- er “ Harry looked down at his shoes in deep thoughts. It seemed like he was trying to actually decide on whether or not Draco would poison him. He finally shook his head in a fuck-it-I-really-need-this-caffeine gesture and said, “ I’ll take a caramel latte , extra sweet.”  
Three sugars and one milk, Draco knew. After all these years, he still remembered watching Harry put extra sugar in his coffee, from across the Slytherin table.  
He pursed his lips and nodded, “Alright. You might as well sit.”  
“No I’ll stay here.” Harry replied making himself comfortable and leaning against the counter.  
Draco rolled his eyes as he turned around. Stupid Potter. And he smirked. It surprised himself to how alive he felt. After so long. It was like back in the days at Hogwarts like he would sit on trees or make ‘Potter stinks’ badges to spite him. Like looking forward to do something. It felt like waking from a long sleep and looking around and finding salvation. It’s funny how fickle reasons to look forward are sometimes.  
“Here .” He said placing the coffee on the counter not failing to notice how Potter’s green eyes shone seeing it behind those ridiculous round glasses.  
“Thank you.” Potter nodded and he said it like he meant it,” And that will be- ?”  
“2 pounds 50”  
“Muggle mone-“  
“Yes Potter, muggle money.” He rolled his eyes once again.  
Potter fidgeted in his pocket and produced some coins.  
“Thank you once again. “ He said as he turned to leave.  
Leave.  
And he won’t come back. And all Draco could do was stare at his back. He would go back to nothing. His only reason to feel would go. Like dust into nothingness. He sighed. He would miss it.  
Then Potter stopped at the door and turned around face wrinkling at seeing how Draco was staring at him like a crazy nutter, “ I won’t mention this to Ron or Hermione.” he said and finally left the café .  
Of course he wouldn’t. Fuck. Draco really needed a whiskey.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note : Homophobia in the wizarding world does not exist :)

CHAPTER 2  
Draco gulped down the last sip of alcohol and placed the glass on the table. It were rare occasions he went to drink. He could not really afford alcohol but Merlin knew that he needed it right now. He rested his head on the counter and started giggling softly. You know that times, when you are so deep in pain , that you start laughing at your condition? Yes, Draco was going through that. His giggles turned into sobs and he sat there clueless. God really needed to stop with this whole giving Draco a character development. Because he was sick of this. He was not going to cry in the bar like a sixty year old man whose wife caught him cheating.  
He cleared his throat , got up , paid for his drink and left for the bathroom.  
It brought back memories as he stare into the mirror. It always did. Sixteen year old Malfoy , crying in a bathroom, taking off his blazer because he could not breathe. Talking to Moaning Myrtle because she was the only one willing to listen. His hair were a mess, not like the once sleeked, shiny well maintained they used to be. Eleven year old Malfoy would be ashamed of him. He was too.  
And Malfoy kept staring into the mirror. Anytime. Anytime now Harry would walk in with his wand at the ready. And Draco would turn and feel something and do another horrible thing and use that damn spell. His hand unconsciously moved to his chest, where his sectumsempra scars were still very much visible. He would often stare at them in the mirror and know that he deserved it.  
He gave himself exactly ten minutes to cry and by the time he walked out of the bar, his eyes were no longer red and puffy.  
It was cold. Draco’s thin cloak didn’t help a lot. He shivered as he hugged himself as tightly as he could. It might be ten o’clock. A heavy mist covered the sky. Give it a few weeks, and it would start snowing, Draco thought. Draco hated winter and cold and Christmas and all the happiness about it. He wondered how Potter would be celebrating his Christmas, this year. Did he have any children?  
And there he was thinking about him again. Every thought diverted to bloody Potter. He had always been obsessed with him. And so much in love with him. In fact he had even-  
Draco stopped in his tracks and stared at the street right in front of him.  
Did Draco just see Harry walk into a street sign and topple over and just lying there on the road. No, he was seeing things. The cold had made his brain go fuzzy, and now he was seeing things. No wonder it was Potter. He scrunched up his nose and shook his head. The ‘Potter’ that he was seeing was still on the road – as if petrified into a sleeping position. Then suddenly he started giggling. The same way Draco had giggled at the bar, he noticed. Giggling from the self pity.  
Draco was flabbergasted. He had never seen things before. And he didn’t understand why his brain would make him see, Potter giggling on the road. Draco needed to know more.  
He crossed the road. He almost felt like the first year Malfoy who had seen the Weasel, Granger and Potter sneak out of Hogwarts to Hagrid’s hut and how he had followed them to investigate more. Draco had always been nosy, maybe just the Slytherin in him.  
He kneeled down before Potter’s still body. Taking out his hands out of his coat, he shook Potter. Well, definitely real. He couldn’t leave him here in the cold. Even though Potter had worn thick sweaters, He would freeze his bloody bollocks off by the next morning.  
And he couldn’t leave him there.  
He continued shaking him, till Potter finally opened his eyes. He blinked for a good minute, before mumbling something.  
Oh god, Draco was too drunk for this.  
“Potter, get up, this is not a place to sleep.” he whispered, proud of his own courage, or maybe it was just the adrenaline.  
“Mhm” Potter whispered back. He grabbed Draco’s hand and hugged it close to his chest.  
Draco’s heart skipped eight beats at once as he felt the warmth in his hands. He could stay like that forever. But he wouldn’t. Potter was clearly wasted. And he didn’t want to feel the warmth, not this way.  
Yet it took him a lot of strength to remove his hand from Potters arms and use it to pick him up.  
On some other day, he would have loved to feel his muscles as he caressed him, but not now. He knew that sober Potter would have cringed at the thought of even touching Draco. So he shook Potter again and again.  
“Draco?” Potter muttered.  
Rolling his eyes Malfoy answered, “Yes, Potter it’s me. And you are drunk. Where are you staying for the night ? Or were you supposed to return home? You are clearly too drunk to apparate. I can just find you an inn maybe.”  
“No, no, I am just staying here.” Potter scrunched his nose.  
Potter looked beautiful, even when he was drunk and not in the best sanity. His nose was red from the cold and his stupid messy hair were in all directions. And his eyes. His green eyes.  
“An inn.” He said widening his arms and moving it like showing roof.  
“The name?”  
“Head. Some Lady’s head.” Potter said, confused as well.  
“What lady’s head. Oh, don’t you mean The Queen’s head inn?”  
Potter nodded.  
“It’s just across the lane. Follow me.”  
Potter walked slowly, almost wobbling like a duck. Extending five minute walk to a fifteen minute journey.  
Draco dropped him at the entrance. He cleared his throat ”Just go in and I think someone will escort you.”  
Potter nodded but didn’t move. They stood there in the cold, just staring at each other.  
For two...five...ten minutes before Draco finally sighed and said, “I should leave and you should, er, sleep.”  
“Yeah sleep,” Potter nodded, “You should sleep too.”  
Little did Potter know about his insomnia and nightmares.  
“I will Potter, goodbye.”  
Potter gave him a wide smile. Draco was a gonner.  
He grinned back.  
Potter turned, and so did he.  
He walked back home in silence. Unable to form words, even in his mind.  
Sometimes, here and there, he blushed or grinned when he remembered Potter smiling at him.  
When he reached home, he made his way to the bed.  
Surprisingly, for the first time, he slept well.  
-  
Draco woke up thinking about Harry. Was he up yet? Probably not, it’s six am. Did he remember anything about last night? No, he was too wasted for it.  
He had never expected Harry to be an alcoholic. He just didn’t look like it. Where was Ginn ? Why did Harry decided to come to such a Muggle town alone?  
There were many questions he wanted to ask. But for now all he could do was hope Harry was safe and tucked in his warm bed.  
Waking up was hard. It always was. When he lived at the Manor, his mom woke him up every morning. And he felt special because that was considered as a ‘ house elf’s job’. He missed his mom. She must be probably sitting in her room drowning in red wine right now.  
Draco hadn’t spoken to Narcissa from the day he decided to leave London and work in a Muggle cafe. His mother had only asked him to return if he would start working as Ministry Auror and marry a girl of her choice. But Draco wasn’t fit to be an Auror, he was a coward. All bark and no bite.  
He was sure his mother would forgive him if only he wrote a letter to her. And they would be back. Not like the old times, but together. A letter was all needed. But there comes the slytherin in them, neither would step down from their ego no matter what it took.

He left for the cafe.  
~

Draco inhaled the smell of roasted coffee beans as he crushed them. He loved how they would kick his senses with the right amount of bitterness. Kind of bizarre how one could get addicted to something so bitter when raw, but that’s the thing. You can love anyone and anything. Sometimes it’s easy, most of the times not. And always painful in an excess amount.  
The bells tinkled as the first customer stepped in. He turned around to greet them and met a pair of green eyes. He sighed. He wondered why he wasn’t expecting Potter to come.  
“Malfoy.“ Potter said nodding his head and then cringing in a painful way. Was it the hangover or just saying the word ‘Malfoy’? Draco would never know  
“Potter.” He replied, “It’s six thirty”  
“I am well aware. I just came here to er,” Potter scrunched his nose and closed his eyes.  
The hangover, Draco thought this time.  
“I remember last night.”  
“Oh” Draco could give anything in the world to not have this conversation.  
“You saved my life,” Potter said, finally.  
And that surprised Draco.  
“I didn’t. You weren’t going to die on that road, Potter. Frozen legs at the most. I didn’t save your life, I just picked you up.”  
“Yes you did,” Potter said now staring at his shoes, “And you saved my life that day at the Manor too.”  
And he looked up to meet Draco’s eyes.  
Green met silver.  
Like the slytherin colours with a body and some feelings.  
“It’s been six years, Potter.” he said finally  
“I know”  
“And you are here now to thank me?”  
“I don’t know why I am here. I don’t why I said that. I,” he sighed rubbing his eyes, “I don’t know, anything. It’s like I have lost the ability to think and I can’t put two and two together, and it… just sucks.”

Draco would be the last person Potter would tell all this too, and it broke Draco to see Potter so confused and hurt not knowing why he was doing what he was doing. No purpose. Just directed by abnormal thoughts.  
“I think you should have some coffee.” He replied after a long pause.

“Yeah, I guess.” Potter said, quite enthusiastic all of a sudden.

Gryffindor. Always finding something happy in all kinds of times.

They were silent as Draco made the latte. He gave Potter his coffee and watched his back as he walked out.  
And something told him that this wasn’t the last time he was seeing Potter.

“You saved my life too,“ Draco blurted out of nowhere, “That day in the Room of Requirement.”  
Potter turned around and smiled, “I didn’t save your life, I just picked you up.” And then he walked out.

Draco was confused. That was the stupidest thing he had ever heard. Potter never spoke sense, but still, he couldn’t stop grinning as he turned back to the brewing machine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Follow me on Instagram : @drayscarhead for updates and text me if you want to !  
> Tumblr : drayscarhead


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, I know it's been a while, but thanks for waiting patiently !  
> Trigger warning: Graphic descriptions of self harm, you can skip it and start reading from the part where the 'two years later' line is drawn, but you'll be missing out a bit of Draco's flashbacks of his life after war...

Chapter 3  
A bitter sigh escaped Draco’s mouth as he felt the stinging kiss of the razor against the soft, pale skin of his arm. A familiar sense of relief washed over his body as physical pain took over. He slowly stopped shaking, taking in fast ,short breaths. He let his head fall backward and hit the wall with a soft thud. He looked down at his wound. Crimson blood was rapidly covering arm.  
It hurt. But he deserved it, didn’t he?  
He had never been a nice person. Draco wasn’t raised that way. He was a bully, a terrorist, a murderer. What else could have possibly be the reason for him to be so universally hated . He was just a naïve kid. What goes around, does come around. No one will ever be forgiven by the rule of nature. He was reaping the sins he sowed since he was eleven years of age.  
He gulped and lifted his right hand, hovering the razor and making sharp, straight lines that were closely followed by streams of red. He watched as drop of blood began trailing down his from the fissure. He didn’t bother to shift his arms and let his bedsheet be stained with red. It didn’t matter, no one was going to know. People had long stopped trying to reach to him. Would Crabbe or Goyle have understood ?  
At the remembrance of Goyle, he became restless again, despite the skin he had just opened on his left arm. Years after the war, and he was still stuck in the past. He remembered Goyle’s funeral, how he stood at the far end, not able to look at his lifeless face. He remembered darkness, the rain, how Goyle’s mother had slapped him across the face before being pulled away by her weeping husband. Accusatory glances from all directions. Pansy had told him that it wasn’t his fault. But her face clearly said something else. She then pursed her lips and turned away, he had never seen her again.  
He opened another web of lines on his skin. Physical pain replaced emotional again and he sat there numb staring at the cuts he had made.  
For two years, he had been doing this to himself regularly. He was a monster devoid of functioning as a human being. He could no longer deal with an emotional or stressful burden, his first thought was to hurt himself. A cut, a burn any form of physical pain that would let him get through one day at a time. He sometimes needed sleeping pills to get himself through the night. It started with scratching himself using his nails, and before he knew he had several blood-stained razors.  
To put it bluntly, Draco was addicted to destroying himself in every way possible. The only way to reap his sins was to inch by inch destroy himself.  
It took him a year to stop self-mutilation. No one had helped him through. It were the little things that motivated him. The birds in the air, the leaves on the street, the way people smiled when the smelled the coffee he had made them. That was a purpose enough. He had not healed, but finding something that would balance out the pain, even to the smallest extent, was enough. Being numb was better than being a walking wretched human who didn’t have enough energy to get out of the bed.

Two years later  
_____________________________________________________________________________________  
Draco’s phone vibrated indicating it was time for him to wake up and following his daily loop of a routine. He got out of his bed and made his way to the bathroom, taking off his shirt. He was thin, so thin each rib was prominently visible. And then his arms were criss-crossed with scars, hardly leaving any patch of skin clean.  
But it didn’t matter, the café would keep him distracted.  
It had been two weeks since he had found Harry passed out on the street. Harry had started visiting Draco’s café every day since then. They didn’t talk a lot. Just a hello and have a nice day. Still those made Draco’s days a little brighter. Draco made efforts in ironing his hoodies and combing his hair. He had even brought a few plants to decorate his café. The green reminded him of Harry’s eyes. That there were chances Harry would visit the next day and make that satisfied little sound when he drank his coffee.  
-  
It was almost seven when Draco gave up on the hope that Harry would arrive. He was probably off back to London. He knew a person like him had no right to, but still he wished Harry had said a goodbye before leaving. But why in the hell would Harry do that. They weren’t friends. Draco was just a classmate who had bullied Harry and his friends throughout seven years not giving a fuck how much it must have hurt them. He never understood until after the war, after he had gone through half the shit Harry had suffered. Loss of loved ones, war, pain. And he didn’t expect Harry to forgive him. Not when Draco himself couldn’t forgive himself for what he had done.  
Then, the door opened and Harry stood at the entrance.  
“I thought you wouldn’t come,” Draco said before he could think it through.  
Harry stared at him as if he had grown another pair of nostrils. He hadn’t expected Draco to speak to him, nor had Draco himself.  
“I wasn’t actually, then I…”he screwed his face like a one year old who is having difficulty in forming sentences.  
“Well I don’t know, I am here now.”  
He took off his coat, swiping away the few drops of melted snow on it and made his way to the counter. Draco had already turned his back and started making Harry’s coffee.  
“Draco?”  
This was another thing Harry kept doing. Calling Draco by his first name and talking to him so conversationally as if they had been friends since years. It annoyed Draco beyond reason. Harry was not supposed to be so friendly with Draco, he was supposed to be mad at him. Draco had expected silence, an insult or maybe a jinx or two. But not once had Harry been remotely hostile.  
He turned to look at Harry who had a wide grin on his face. Why was he so cheerful today?  
“Oi, Draco.” Harry repeated.  
“Stop calling me that,” Draco gritted his teeth.  
“Why,” he tilted his head looking genuinely confused. He seemed to have decreased his age by ten years, looking so innocent.  
No, this is not the time. Focus Draco.  
“Cause we aren’t frien-“  
“Can’t we be?”  
Oh.  
Now that was a surprise.  
Draco’s eyebrows reached his hairline and he was very aware of the flush that was rising in his neck. He looked away from the smile that had once again adorned Harry’s face almost too wide to be anatomically possible. Taking deep breaths, he tried to stop the adrenaline rush and maintain balance as all the thoughts in his mind came to a vague stop.  
Harry wanted to be friends with him? Who says that to his former bully? One part of his head was so excited at the prospect of the idea and the other part was pleading that it was a joke.  
“You do that a lot,” Harry continued, Draco could basically hear his grin, “think, zone out.”  
“I don’t,” Draco said slowly gaining control of his body.  
“Do” Harry sing-songed.  
“Shut up.” His cheeks were burning by now and he turned his back to Harry to be a bit less embarrassed.  
Suddenly, his ears were filled with a loud cheery giggle. Harry was laughing. And Draco couldn’t move. His heart fluttered and eyes widened as he registered the sound ringing throughout the otherwise silent café . He certainly had heard Harry laughing before, in those dim corridors of Hogwarts where he lay in the shadows. But this was different. He had made Harry laugh. And Draco wanted to memorize it’s rhythm, every high and low note of Harry’s voice, and he could never get tired of hearing it.  
“You really didn’t change did you?” Harry spoke in between his laughter almost gasping for breath.  
Didn’t change?  
“Still a brat.” He continued explaining.  
Oh.  
“Speak for yourself.” Draco said- too softly to be heard.  
“Oh I will.” His laughter slowly coming to a pause.  
Draco sure was disappointed...and more flustered than ever.  
“By the way, “Harry continued, unaware of the effect of his laughter on Draco,” I would like a black coffee today.” And then he turned and made his way to the chairs.  
It took Draco a good one minute to unfreeze himself and get back to work.

Harry came back again the next day with a smile brighter than the last. He stayed until Draco closed the café.  
“So you’re going home? “He asked before they separated ways.  
Draco knew he should have lied and said yes.  
“No, actually I am going to the hill behind this café.”  
“Oh?” he tilted his head clearly wanting to learn why.  
“There are er-”  
Would it be embarrassing to tell Harry about those raccoons he fed after his job? Probably.  
“There are raccoons behind the hill, I have well, I have taken a liking to them.” He looked at his shoes and grinning despite his embarrassment.  
“Oh!” Harry replied clearly surprised but with much more enthusiasm than Draco expected him to, “Can I join?”  
It was Draco’s turn to be surprised now.  
“You would want to?”  
“Yeah, it’s not like I have anything else to do,” Harry frowned and then smiled widely again, “Actually I would love to see those raccoons with you !”

“Well then, let’s go.” Draco put on his hood to hide the flush rising up his neck.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading !  
> Please leave a comment if you can, it really helps motivate me a lot !  
> (I'm particularly very excited for the next chapter ;) )  
> ps - If you think my chapters are too short, yeah I agree with you. I think they'll be longer from chapter 4, so this story can have 7-10 chapters in total :)

**Author's Note:**

> Leaving comments, gives me motivation ! I love your faces , bye !  
> I'll update as soon as possible


End file.
